


Unreasonable Deductions

by MissMollyBloom



Series: Ficlet Fridays [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMollyBloom/pseuds/MissMollyBloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From an Anon prompt on Tumblr: Sherlock popped up in her apartment and failed to deduce right away that Molly's tears were actually from cutting onions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unreasonable Deductions

**Author's Note:**

> My second Ficlet Friday Prompt fill. 
> 
> It's a lot more fluff and a lot less angst than my usual fare. Sometimes it's nice to walk in the light!

He didn’t usually knock at her door. In fact, most of the time he revelled in the speed in which he could pick the lock. He thought it was amusing that no matter how hard she tried to keep him out, he always found his way in.

He could tell from the wry smile she greeted him with whenever he arrived that she liked it too. It was their little game.

But that night, for some reason, he wasn’t in the mood to be playing games. So he knocked at the door, and waited for her to answer.

His heart fell when he saw her. Skin blotchy, nose running, eyes puffy and read. She had been crying.

“Molly, whatever’s the matter?” He asked.

“It’s nothing, Sherlock. Come in,” she said and moved away from the door.

He followed her into the lounge room.

“Don’t lie to me Molly.”

“I’m not lying!” She said, and turned to head into the kitchen.

Sherlock grabbed her hand.

“You’ve been crying.”

“I have,” she admitted.

“Molly-” Sherlock steeled himself, ready to confess all that he’d been hiding from her ever since the Moriarty broadcast had offered him his unearned stay of execution.

“Sherlock, I can’t right now,” Molly said, and tried to break free from his grasp and retreat into the kitchen.

“No, Molly. You need to hear this.”

“Yes, but-”

“I know I don’t show it, and I have definitely done and said things which would make you think otherwise, but I care for you, Molly. I don’t know what’s made you cry, but I will do whatever I can to fix it.”

It was like he had been holding his breath. With his feelings declared, now he could recover.

Molly smiled.

“That’s really lovely, Sherlock. Truly, it means a lot. But-”

“But you can’t trust me anymore,” he nodded, “Sure. I deserve that.”

Molly reached out and gently touched his face, “No. That’s not it.”

“Then what?” he asked, unable to hide his frustration.

“I’m in the middle of cooking dinner. The sautéed onions are about to burn.”

“Onions?”

“Yes.”

“And they made you cry?”

Molly smirked, “Yep.”

“Well…” for the first time in perhaps his whole adult life Sherlock found himself at a loss for words.

“So, will you join me for dinner?” Molly asked.

Sherlock nodded.

“And maybe breakfast tomorrow?” Molly continued.

Sherlock paused, taking just a moment too long to grasp her meaning. Molly bit her lip in anticipation.

“Sounds great,” He said.


End file.
